One Kiss
by VIKEMON
Summary: Drarry fluff. A kiss can change anything if it can diffuse Harry's anger, turning it into something entirely different.


One Shot.

_A/N: So my main fic is finished and I'm getting pretty bored trying to start my next long one, what better to do than have a cheesy Drarry one-shot? Nothing, I say! Red, enjoy, review!_

Harry drifted from consciousness as he gazed, bewildered at the potions ingredients on the board. He had never liked potions, he had never liked Snape and he had never liked sitting in the musty dungeons – surrounding by a load of Slytherins. Hermione nudged him and the room once more came into focus.

"Well, Mr Potter?" Snape drawled.

"Please, sir" Hermione tried to interject but was silenced by a glare from the foul potions master.

"Dragonfly mucus?" Harry took a gamble with one of the ingredients on the board.

"Incorrect." Snape loomed over Harry's desk. "I suggest you pay more attention in future lessons Mr Potter, can you even tell me what question I just asked you?"

Harry shook his head and braced himself for the tidal wave of hate from the tutor.

"As I suspected." He whispered with malice, returning to the front. "As it happens, Potter, I asked you what Mr Malfoy had just told the class, would you please care to repeat it, Draco?"

The blonde did not even look up from his desk as he repeated, "The nightshade draught is unlike any other potion as its ingredients should all be added before it is mixed."

"20 points to Slytherin, and 10 will be removed from Gryffindor for sheer insolence." The words Snape spoke were bitter, but Harry was more preoccupied with the fact that Malfoy was being so quiet this year. With the war fast approaching, Harry thought the other boy would be throwing his death-eater weight around more than ever, but he had remained silent on anything to do with Voldemort, or even the upcoming battle of the Wizarding World.

The green eyed boy pondered on this for the rest of the lesson, allowing himself to listen ever so often in case he was caught out again – particularly listening when Malfoy spoke as he knew Snape would love to deduct more points for a repeat offense. Once the bell rang for lunch, he remained behind, wanting to ask Snape about anything he could do to try and get into an 8th year at Hogwarts, studying Potions in order to take his Auror exam. It had been Hermione's idea, she said without it Harry would probably not be able to follow that career path, and he knew she was right.

He packed away his things and turned to the front, but the teacher was gone. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy was still sat where he was before, with a book beneath his nose. He needed to know whether Snape would be back or not, but was reluctant to resort to questioning the Slytherin, so turned instead to go – hoping to catch him at lunch.

"He'll be back in a couple of moments." A voice that the hero almost didn't recognise penetrated the air, it was definitely Malfoy's, but lacked the snide underlying tone that was necessary for Malfoy to be speaking to him.

He looked once more at the blonde, who had not even thought to face him. There was certainly nobody else he could be addressing in the room.

"Oh, er, thanks." Harry murmured, sitting back down and waiting for the professor to glide back in. The awkward silence engulfed Harry, yet it did not seem to bother the Slytherin. For the first time ever, the green eyed boy found himself wanting Snape to come and talk to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sweeping black cape he had always found so ominous.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Well, Sir, you see, I want to be an Auror" He stuttered, hating Snape's snort as he tried to get his words out. "And I know you have to have advanced potions, I just wanted to see if I could stay on a year and maybe pass potions so I can take my Auror exam?" he bit his lip, awaiting reply.

"That will not be necessary Potter, as much as I would truly love to spend another year teaching you." The words, laced with sarcasm made Harry angry, but he allowed Snape to continue. "You will be mentored; one on one, if you can complete a few pieces of work for me, then you will pass."

"Oh, well, that's fantastic I'll ask Hermione." Harry once again turned to leave the room but was stopped.

"Potter. What on earth gives you the right to choose your own mentor?" The potion master's lip curled into a wicked smirk.

The Gryffindor cringed, but tried to remain calm. "She would be an excellent mentor." Even Snape could not deny that, surely.

"Yes but unfortunately for you, she would also be distracting. Mr Malfoy will mentor you." It was evident now that Harry's years of ignoring or taunting Snape were about to come back on him.

"Oh come on!" He was infuriated, forgetting that he needed this for his future. "What can be more distracting than constant pathetic bickering with that...foul git!" Harry narrowed his eyes at the corner of the room where Draco was still sat, unflinching, not even interested in the conversation.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Well I don't think you're in any position to pick and choose."

The Gryffindor's stomach churned at the thought of spending hours on end with Malfoy, who would probably torment him relentlessly.

"You will study here in the dungeons with Mr Malfoy, every Thursday, from eight pm until nine. I will extend both of your curfews. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded and walked out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief once he was away from the dark corridors of the Slytherin domain.

The rest of the day dragged for Harry, even his favourite lesson – Defence against the dark arts, could not cheer him up. Malfoy swam in and out of his head, annoying him even when the blonde was not around. Why hadn't he looked at Harry? Why hadn't he even protested to Harry's outburst about him?

The boy sat down for dinner with the red and gold quarter of Hogwarts. He positioned himself next to Ron and Hermione, finding himself without an appetite after his run-in with Snape. The man was still glowering at him from the teachers table.

"What's up with you?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed.

Harry opened his mouth to tell his friends about what he and Malfoy would have to do, but something stopped him. A feeling slammed into his gut that he should keep it to himself. Over the years he had learned to trust his instinct and followed it, quickly thinking of something else.

"I have a headache, I think I'll just go see Hagrid for a bit." He grabbed his bag from under the table.

"Sure mate, let me just finish this, we'll come with you." Ron began to rush, trying to finish his apple pie.

"No need," Harry blurted. "I'm only going to see if he'll let me feed the Thestrals." He smiled at his friends, hoping it was convincing them.

"Is not your scar is it, Harry?" Hermione questioned him in a whisper; he immediately cursed himself for worrying her.

"No no, not at all, I always feel like this after a couple of hours with Professor Binns." He chuckled along with the two sat next to him, before checking his watch. He had fifteen minutes to get his potions text book from his dorm and go to the dungeons.

He bid farewell to the Gryffindor table and left the room. Glancing at the Slytherin table as he went past. Malfoy was not there. In fact, Harry could not recall the boy coming into dinner at all. He raced to the dorm and back down to the dungeons with a couple of minutes to spare. He sat down, heaving a heavy sigh as he did so. No Malfoy as of yet. He had no idea how the boy was going to teach him if he couldn't even look at him.

Twenty minutes passed, and Harry was getting frustrated with the lack of a Slytherin. He grabbed his things and headed in the direction of the common room, not wanting Malfoy to show him up. This was just another excuse for him to annoy Harry. He banged on the stone wall that concealed the common room. The stones seemed to have a green tinge to them; this is how Harry recalled which wall to start kicking. The stones finally parted and a tall Slytherin boy stood with his arms crossed, throwing Harry and inquisitive look. He peered over the boy's shoulder to try and see into the green-lit room.

"Is Malfoy there?" he felt stupid asking, but he also felt stupid waiting around any longer in the dungeons.

The boy turned and called over his shoulder. "Anybody seen the ice king?"

Harry almost laughed, but didn't think it would be accepted kindly – as he was, thankfully, not a Slytherin.

"No he's not here." The boy seemed bored as he regarded Harry. He was handsome, most of the boys in Slytherin were – Potter wondered if this was a specific trait of theirs, but this idea was instantly dismissed once saw Crabbe appear behind the unknown boy.

"He's not here, he's on the Quidditch pitch." The handsome Slytherin stamped on Crabbe's foot as soon as the boy spoke.

"Go find him if you wish, Potter." The icy tone of the boy he did not know made his hair stand on end, "but he's not in the best of moods. If you value your life I suggest you back to your little red hovel."

Before Harry could say another word, the stones slammed shut and he was left staring blankly at a wall. It was half past eight, but he made his way to the Quidditch pitch anyway. The short walk there had him drenched, the September rain bouncing off the stone path hard. Rivulets run from his hair into his eyes, making it impossible to see.

Malfoy's blond hair reflected shards of moonlight; his broom was stationary in the air. Harry watched for a moment, wiping the rain from his glasses so he could see properly. He quickly used the accio charm to fetch his broom, kicking off from the ground and racing up to where the irritating Slytherin had stopped.

"You have got to be the most annoying person I have ever had the displeasure to meet." Harry roared, his voice battling against the sound of the storm surrounding them. Malfoy merely looked at him, confusion sliding onto his face.

"I get it. You don't want to mentor me. I don't want you to either, but that's no reason to leave me sitting in a classroom, wasting my time waiting around for you." He spat, his words piercing the air as he continued – the rage from Malfoy's ignorance filling him. "I don't get what game you're playing, but you need to stop it because I'm sick of you messing with me, and my friends, and everybody else. Nobody likes you; even your own house has pretty much rejected you." Harry remembered the nickname 'ice king', watching Malfoy's eyes flash between anger and confusion.

"Harry," the boy said calmly.

"You're rude and obnoxious; you can't even try and be civil. The problem with you is that you are spoilt, you're nasty and cruel and that will never change."

"Harry-"

"We have a war coming up and all you can think about is yourself!"

"Harry." Grey eyes fixed on the Gryffindor's face and he was silenced for a moment.

"What?" he snapped, cursing himself as he realised, once there was no spiteful smirk twisted onto his face, Draco fit into the handsome Slytherin category.

His cheekbones were sculpted well and his eyes were bright silver, exquisite in any light. His platinum hair stuck to his forehead and his shirt clung to the pale skin of his honed, slender body. His eyes were soft velvet now, watching Harry with intent. His head cocked to one side slightly, as if he were confused at the sight in front of him.

"It's Wednesday." The blond stated quietly.

"What?" His tone was once again, mean. It almost hurt him as he realised how he had shouted at the boy, and was even now being nothing but rude to him, and he had not received anything back for his cruelty.

"It's Wednesday, I will mentor you on Thursdays, eight until nine." He looked down before continuing. "Well, actually, I will not. I will speak to professor Snape in the morning and have him assign somebody else to help you." The boy pushed down on his broom and landed, walking towards the changing rooms.

Harry pursued, hating himself for the foolish mistake. It was not listening to Snape that got him into this in the first place. He ought to have learned from his mistakes. He stopped dead in his tracks as another thought hit him - Draco had called him by his real name.

"Look, Malfoy...Draco, I didn't mean to-"The Slytherin spun on his heel so fast Harry almost walked into him.

"No." He said, clearly struggling to restrain his voice. "I do not want to hear anything else you have to say."

Harry grabbed him before the boy could turn away again. "Please listen to me." His pleading embarrassed him and he felt his cheeks flush, and again even deeper as he realised how warm Draco's flesh was under his frozen palm.

Stormy eyes fell upon him once more and he battled against himself, trying to think what to say. "I'm sorry, I went a little over the top there"

"Yes. You did." Draco wore a dead expression as he listened.

"You've never given me a reason to be anything but uncivil with you though, Malfoy." Harry hoped it would not come across the wrong way.

"If you will hold something I did when I was eleven against me, then I do not wish for you to be civil with me anyway."

Harry bit his lip, "you did other things as well, you were never nice to me."

"You expected me to be? You pretty much turned the whole of Gryffindor against me within a week, how was I supposed to see that as a signal to try and be nice to you?" He had a point, and Harry knew it.

All along he had blamed Malfoy for their discrepancies, when it was also his own fault. He was holding a grudge against Malfoy, from when he was young. When it was all put into perspective, their feud seemed silly.

"You're a Death-Eater" he tried to justify himself, Malfoy merely held out both his forearms; his shirt now translucent, revealing nothing but bare white skin. Harry could not even think of another to bring up, "I'm sorry." His voice was pathetic, low.

"I care too little for our past problems to warrant your apology." Malfoy gazed intensely at the boy offering his apologies to him.

"Okay." Harry couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence. With another blush he realised he was still gripping the blond's arm, he released but his opposition did not turn away.

"As it so happens, I regret a lot of things I've done or said in the past. But I will have you know they were not actions of my own accord." Draco's voice was sincere and soft, comforting Harry even though he was the one person in the world Harry would have never expected to be comforting.

However, his presence relaxed the Gryffindor, and he felt that the problem he was facing the war did not seem as large once he realised that not everybody was against him at Hogwarts – even when they may seem it.

"I always did suspect your father heavily influenced it all." He held out his hand, as Draco had for him six years previous. It was late, perhaps too late. A sadness overwhelmed him that made his eyes sting. Their time at Hogwarts would have been a happier one if perhaps they had just gotten along from the first year.

Draco's hand trembled as he took Harry's, a shock went through the Gryffindor as their skin touched. Something powerful embraced him and when he looked into Draco's moonlight eyes, he felt an understanding from the other boy.

Their fingers entwined shakily, both clasping each other's hands. They stood close for a minute, drinking in the situation, the emotion that wrapped itself into the atmosphere around them carrying the boys away from Hogwarts – to somewhere where there had never been any hatred or malice between them. Their foreheads pressed together, they looked upon each other in a new light. Green and grey collided under the star strewn sky, their worlds and the war and even their friends disappeared for a while. Harry's cold lips found Draco's, and their bodies instantly heated as their gentle kiss began.

Draco's mouth was warm against his, inviting as his tongue explored something he never thought it would. It felt right to Harry. As if it had always been this way. Perhaps it had, maybe they had longed for this all along. Strong arms wrapped around the raven haired boy, pulling him into an embrace he hoped would never end. The rain continued to pour and lightning illuminated the grounds of Hogwarts, within the storm's grasp was the two, which together – could break the foundations of the castle. Stopping the apartheid within the walls; carelessly falling for one another despite their imminent differences. The kiss deepened, sending pulses high and blood racing. Smooth lips and velvet tongues devoured each other, their taste's emitting pleasure beyond any else either wizard had felt before. All the hurt was gone, and in its place was the warm fondness, the care and passion that manifested itself in this one kiss.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! Review review review! This is just something to tide y'all over until I can get my proper fanfic up going!


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